Black Tides
by silvergryphon06
Summary: Captain Kate O'Malley has set out on a voyage to claim a legendary treasure, but that map she's stolen will lead to far more than she ever thought possible, even as a certain, relentless captain dogs her heels. Book One of the Heart of the Sea series. Rated M for future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: Here we go, the first chapter of the first book of the series **_**Heart of the Sea**_**. This will be the initial book, **_**Black Tides**_**, and follows our first heroine, Black Kate O'Malley, and her adventures on the Stella Virgo as she races to find a legendary treasure while fending off the advances of one odd captain. **_

_**Feedback is always appreciated! Enjoy!**_

* * *

She had no idea how she was going to explain this one.

Boots pounded on cobbled pavement, skidding on the slick stone as their owner took a hard right into a narrow alley. Shrapnel and rock sprayed out in a series of sharp cracks, dusting the coral-tinted curls that whipped behind her in a rush of wind.

"Shit!"

The curse came out like a bark as she ducked her head lower, lifting an arm protectively. In another smooth motion, she twisted her torso, one of the two pistols she carried in her hands cocking with a loud click. Closing one eye, she fired behind her as she reached the end of the alley. A groan echoed off the walls and she smirked, darting down another side street.

The bag at her hip drummed against her thigh rhythmically as she flew towards the sunlight glittering at the other end, legs pumping frantically. Another succession of deafening pops echoed behind her, along with a string of multiple curses in a variety of male voices.

Just a little more—

She sprinted into the bustling roadway, dodging an oncoming carriage to squeeze through a group of gaggling women. Ignoring their indignant sputtering, she twisted her body again, slipping between several large barrels in order to drop out of their line of sight. Her eyes darted left, then right, searching for an alternate escape route. She couldn't stay out in the open like this, but the alleys were just suicidal.

It was a lively and colorful bazaar, stalls lining the street and facing the sparkling expanse of ocean that stretched out just beyond the edge of the wooden docks. Traders and hawkers shouted from their booths, holding up trinkets, fine fabrics, and weaponry, anything and everything that could be given a price. Large groups of sailors moved in near perfect unison along the docks, loading and unloading various crates and barrels of cargo and supplies. It was busy and chaotic, but still easily traversed if one had a nimble step or a tendency to bull through a crowd; that was the problem.

She glanced over her shoulder and spotted four swarthy men bursting from the tapering alleyway.

"Bleedin' tickturds," she snarled under her breath, taking off again up the middle of the street, one hand clamping her black tricorne hat firmly to her head.

"There she is! Get back here!"

"Why do they always say the same bloody thing?" she asked herself, not really expecting an answer, as she ran straight for another carriage, the horses panicking as she fired two shots that picked up the dust at their feet.

The horses reared in fright and she dropped, pistol skittering against the road as she slid on her hip and under the carriage. With a swift motion, she bit down on the barrel of her other gun, freeing her hand long enough to grab hold of a piece of the bottom of the carriage. Using her momentum, she swung right, just missing the spinning wheels and tumbling out into a puddle.

"Dammit all to hell!"

Grumbling, she rolled to her feet and kept running, tucking her pistols in the wide blue sash she used as a belt and wiping at the mud that now stained her breeches. There was a loud crash behind her and she winced, biting her tongue to keep from shouting an apology. That would have surely drawn more than enough attention to her. Slowing down a little, she turned her attention to the shabby, leaning buildings that lined the docks. Recognizing what looked to be a tavern, she squirmed through the crowds and checked her back. The men were still at the carriage, which had collided with another and the reins and bridles of both sets of horses tangled in between.

At least no one looked hurt.

Ducking through the door, she thought she heard another shout and grimaced. The place reeked of alcohol, smoke and black tobacco, strong enough to nearly make her eyes water. The noise level was intense, drowning out any murmur that could have possibly slipped through the door from outside. Damn, now how was she going to know if they were coming or not? Could she barricade the door? She glanced around the entryway then blew out an impatient breath; not likely, not even a barrel close enough. She'd have to blend into the throngs of patrons. She turned around and subsequently let out a groan.

Gods above, could this job get any more complicated? Best not to ask that question too often, she reckoned.

The whole bar was full of pirates.

She covered her face with a hand. Great, just bloody great, exactly what she needed. Of all the—well, maybe…

As soon as she stepped down and felt the sawdust crunch under her boots, the door behind her burst open, sending the entire tavern into an uproar. The sound had her whirling around instinctively and she immediately regretted it. The same four men loomed in the doorway, one's white shirt stained with crimson at the shoulder and murder in their dark eyes.

"Gotcha, wench! Aw, shit!"

Before he had even gotten the words out properly, she'd sidestepped his clumsy grab at her waist, hopping back and onto a table that had been set up to her left. Glasses and rum scattered under her boots, making the wooden surface slick. Mindful of her step, she drew her pistols and fired twin shots into the floor. The shots made her pursuers halt for a brief moment. Her eyes shone with a mixture of exasperation and a small degree of amusement. Honestly, how could she not find this whole situation just a little bit funny?

"Oh, please take one more step, I beg ya," she said with a twist of her lips.

The one closest to her sneered.

"Do ya honestly think yer little firecrackers are intimidatin'? Ya got lucky, plain and simple."

A shot cracked across the tavern, the barrels of her gun smoking lightly, mixing gunpowder with the other scents in the room. Red bloomed across the man's shirt as he grasped at his shoulder, sinking to the ground with an agonized expression.

"Firecracker burns like hell, don' it?" she asked casually, lifting her right arm higher to aim at his companions, who froze as she cocked the pistol, "I wouldn' move if I were ya."

"Geez, O'Malley, ya can't just leave well enough alone, can ya?"

She shifted subtly at the laughing voice behind her, glancing back for a split second. It was all the time the other men needed, surging forward to grab her. Somersaulting to the bar on her left, she dashed down the polished surface, glass and splinters spraying behind her as her pursuers opened fire.

"Shit, shit, shit!"

She reloaded mid-jump, a practiced jerk of her wrists. Leaping towards another table, the sudden addition of her weight made the barrel-stand beneath wobble dangerously. Wind-milling her arms frantically, she jumped again, hopping from table to table as bullets pelted the planks behind her.

"Take cover, ya two-bit whores!" she called out to the pirates around her as she spun and returned fire, closing one indigo-colored eye to take aim.

Her rounds hit home, two more shoulder shots and two in the knee. They went down and were immediately snatched up by the sailors they had uprooted from their barstools. Twirling her guns, she shoved them back into her sash and hopped down from the table top.

"By the mast and the four, that was less to me likin' than I expected."

She brushed away more of the mud that was starting to dry on her dark brown breeches, stomping her boots on the floor to cast away the last of the dirt. Well, at least she hadn't gotten any on her white shirt; that would have been a bitch and a half to clean. She glanced up and saw several pairs of eyes regarding her with no small measure of laughing enjoyment. One pair of eyes, in particular, clear and grey, was fixed on her with a gentle amusement.

"And ya never be less than entertainin', Captain O'Malley."

She chuckled with an expressive gesture, half-bowing with an elegant sweep of her arm.

"A pleasure ta be of service, as always, Captain Morgan, ta you and the crew of the Sirius."

Grabbing a chair by its back, she spun it nimbly and straddled it at the full table, wiping sweat from her brow.

She lifted her voice and her hat, revealing a dark purple bandana wrapped around the crown of her head, "Toss 'em back out inta the street and there be a round on me, gents…and lady."

She produced a smaller pouch than the one that hung from her belt and, with a flick of her wrist, sent it soaring towards the bartender who caught it with a deft hand and a grin.

There was a chorus of cheers as she placed her hat back down over her head with a nod to the timid looking young woman who sat at the elbow of one of the table's occupants, a fierce looking man with dark, wavy hair and an eye patch.

Her attention moved to the slightly shorter man at the head of the table and she tilted her head forward with a smirk.

"Captain, it's been a year or two since I be seein' ya in this port."

Captain Morgan shrugged, the loose sleeves of his red jacket shifting against his broad shoulders as he took a deep swig from the rum bottle he held by the neck.

"Aye, but the world is a wide place," he replied with a wink, pursing his lips as a serving wench strode by the table.

With a movement that was swifter than she would have given him credit for, he seized the pretty young woman by her waist and deposited her, giggling, onto his lap. A raised eyebrow in his direction only resulted in another lighthearted shrug and a flushing of the cheeks of the tiny slip of a girl that sat next to the pirate with the intimidating gaze.

"Ya be a new face 'mongst these bilge rats, love. What ya go by?"

Patch, as she dubbed him silently, straightened with a hard look.

"Leave her be, Captain."

The title seemed to fall bitterly from his tongue and the glance she gave him was speculative, cupping her chin in her palm as she rested her elbow on the back of the chair.

"It be a harmless enough question, Eduardo, and I be curious about the woman tha' has earned _your_ consideration."

She turned her eyes back towards the girl whose wildly waving brown hair nearly completely obscured the dark chocolate eyes that sparkled beneath her bangs. Her hand came up with a slight gasp at the scrutiny she was receiving, her blush deepening charmingly.

"A-Amalthea," she murmured softly, her other hand grasping Eduardo's sleeve shyly.

"A pretty name for a pretty lass," the other woman said kindly with a crooked smile, "How'd ya end up sailin' with these louts?"

"I, um, that is…I got stuck in a barrel…"

The coral-haired captain cackled, throwing back her head.

" Tha' be so, love? If it be a case of accident then, mayhap ya'd be interested in joinin' me crew instead, hmm? A sweet thing like ya'd be welcome on the _Stella_."

Her smile was warm and playful. Eduardo's arm wrapped around Amalthea's slim shoulders protectively and she would have given her last piece of coin that he was probably growling at her. The din of the tavern kept her blissfully unaware of the sound, however.

"Quit ya snarlin', I only be teasin' the lass. Now, where's me rum, a got quite a thirst after all tha' squawkin' them clam-shits put me through."

As she looked towards the bar, intending to catch the man behind it's eye, the door leading out to the street nearly flew off its hinges, banging against the wall like the blast of a cannon.

"Ah, shark's balls, I reckon I'm goin' ta be stayin' tha' way," with a broad sweep of her hat in one hand and drawing one pistol in the other, she stood and promptly fired.

Giving them all a parting grin, she was dashing across tables again and upsetting mugs before anyone could reply.

A large group of men plowed through the tavern, hot on her heels as she bolted out the back door, into a damp alley, and disappeared.

Amalthea leaned forward and watched the other woman disappear from view, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Who _is_ that woman?"

Captain Morgan released his attractive captive to return to her duties with a wistful sigh. Throwing a leg over the arm of his large chair, he propped his cheek against a fist with a small smile, his hat dipping low across his brow.

"Tha' woman, my dear Amalthea, is Kate O'Malley, captain of the _Stella Virgo _and possibly the most skilled sharpshooter in these seas, outside of our navigator, of course."

Amalthea nodded, her head turning back and forth as she observed the bar returning to a certain degree of normalcy. At least, as normal as a pirate tavern could ever get.

"She does seem like a captain-ish person."

Eduardo raised a brow down at his wife.

"Captain-ish person?"

Amalthea blushed again.

"Um, I-I mean she seems…unique?"

Eduardo snorted lightly, settling back into his chair and propping his boots on the table, pulling Amalthea closer in order to rest his chin on the top of her head and subsequently making his bride blush.

"Aye, that she does."

Thomas, who had been quiet along with the other members of the crew, suddenly nudged Russell in the ribs.

"Hear 'bout her crew, Russ?"

The blonde man grinned suddenly.

"All women and all beautiful? Aye, who hasn't heard about it?"

The two laughed amongst themselves, Christopher chuckling with them from his seat between Nathan and Russell. The cook, for his part, took out a paper from his back pocket, glancing over its contents before turning towards Morgan.

"I'll be needin' to pick up these supplies, Captain, do ya mind?"

"Go 'head, take Thomas and Russell with ya."

The younger members of the crew protested rambunctiously, but they fell silent under Nathan's stern look. Eduardo shook his head slowly, his fingers playing with the tips of Amalthea's hair.

"Hmph, troublesome."

She laughed softly as she handed him her untouched mug of ale.

"I thought that only applied to me."

Perhaps marriage had made her just a bit bolder in the last year.

The whisper in her ear assured her that she was all the trouble he ever wanted.

* * *

The water was clear and grey as it lapped against the _Stella_'s hull, echoing the footsteps of her captain as she strode up the plank.

"Felicity, Anamarie, all hands on deck! Where's Cassidy?"

She stood in the middle of the deck in question, her hands on her hips and a crooked grin curving her lips. The lightly stained color of the ship was unique when compared to many of the ships that sailed these waters, the wooden planks a deep, rich and striking mahogany. _Stella Virgo _had been painted in gold lettering on the bow of the ship, the coiled script neat and naturally curved.

A tall woman with short cropped black hair was the first to come up the stairs from below, her dark eyes scanning quickly before stepping out into the sunlight. Her skin was a rich caramel color, making the lines of marks across her arms and the single jagged scar across her cheek stand out as starkly pale in comparison. With sharp, angular features and a wide, tightly pressed mouth, she was more handsome than feminine.

"Here's Cassidy, Captain," she said quietly, tossing Kate a long, slender-barreled rifle.

The captain caught it, twirling it in her hand expertly before sliding it into the harness at her back.

Kate grinned as a smaller golden-haired girl followed, hopping up onto the deck with a bright smile. Her face was heart-shaped and lovely, with a small nose and full lips, yet the wicked glint in lively hazel eyes that danced under delicate brows belied the gentle set of her features.

"Captain! Did ya lose 'em all this time?"

The captain's brow furrowed as another woman with dark blue eyes slipped down a rope that led to the crow's nest high above them. Her thick ginger hair was tied in a medley of thin and thick braids, twin tendrils framing a face with features finely shaped and deceivingly delicate.

"Now how did ya be knowin' 'bout tha', Jenny love?"

The slight blonde woman giggled, hiding her smile impishly behind a slender hand.

"'Cause you always get chased, Captain, it never fails! Besides, there's a hole in yer shirt!"

"Ah," Kate mumbled, craning her neck around to see for herself the spot that Jenny pointed to on her upper back, "Damn..."

"She's right, Captain. How many this time?" asked the black-haired woman.

"Too few to worry about and too many to bother countin', Anamarie," replied Kate with a toothy grin.

"Could you learn ta be a lil more discreet when ya be goin' off on yer own, Captain?" asked the tall redhead, crossing her arms loosely beneath her breasts.

Kate gave her a cheeky smirk.

"Aw, ya worry for me, Beth?"

"Tsk," Beth replied, leaning a willowy hip against the mast and tilting her head away, blue eyes watching the water over the railing, "Ya be the only one tha' knows how ta find any treasure in these waters."

"So ya always be sayin' and so ya always be lyin'," another voice cut across the _Stella, _drawing all eyes towards the source.

Two other women stood near the helm. One had her hand braced easily on the wheel, her teasing lavender eyes deeply set above high cheekbones and a kinked grin that matched the captain's. She kept her snowy locks neatly held back with a black ribbon tied at the nape of her neck, the white tresses a sharp contrast to her youthful appearance.

Beth scowled up towards the poop deck, one hand reaching down to wrap around the pommel of her saber.

"Are ya implyin' what I think ya are, Felicity?" she growled, cerulean eyes narrowing.

Felicity chuckled, exchanging glances with the dark-haired girl to her right, lavender meeting lilac across the expanse of the wheel. The other girl was slightly smaller, with hair the same coral color as the captain, but perhaps even curlier, the ragged, tightly coiled ringlets twining close to her slim jaw, caressing her ears, and brushing her forehead. In looks, she resembled Kate and Felicity, with high cheeckbones, straight nose and a decidedly crooked smile.

"Did I be implyin' anythin', Lauriana?"

The younger girl sniffed, the corners of her lips lifting in a small smile.

"Aye, an' pullin' me inta trouble with ya."

Kate moved to lean next to Beth, lightly tugging on one of the loosely woven braids to break her stare at Felicity and drawing it towards the captain. The other women followed suit as they gathered on the deck. Kate snatched up the pouch that hung from her belt.

"First Mate Cavanagh!"

Beth straightened.

"Aye, Captain?"

Kate tossed it towards her.

"We have a heading. Prepare the _Stella_ to sail with the tide. Anamarie, I trust we've the supplies needed to last an extended voyage?"

"Aye, Captain, provided we spend no more than three fortnights at sea," Anamarie replied, her dark eyes speculative.

"Jenny, did you finish collecting the rare medicines you wanted?"

Jenny's hazel eyes sparkled strangely for a moment, a feral grin twisting her lips.

"I had to…negotiate a little, but I managed."

Kate suppressed a shudder. She really did not want to know what had been involved in the little blonde's idea of haggling.

"What's our heading, Captain?" Felicity asked, half-turning back towards the helm.

Captain Kate's grin was bold as she rushed towards the rigging, nimbly stepping onto the railing and pointing towards the sea.

"West, to Red Sand Island," she called over the wind.

Preparations were swift, Beth barking orders down to the deck as she deftly slithered up the rope and began to trim the sails. Kate, for her part, had pulled out a small, slender tube from her boot and tossed it towards Felicity over her shoulder, her eyes cast out towards the sea. Twisting the end and producing a rolled parchment, Felicity's eyes lit up as she unfurled it to reveal a tattered chart.

"Is this what I think it is?"

Kate nodded with a crooked grin, tucking a stray, wavy tendril behind her ear as she stepped down from the rail.

"Aye, and well worth the trouble it caused us ta get it."

"Ya mean the trouble it caused _ya_. We were snug and content on the _Stella _as ya ordered."

Kate shook her head.

"Details, details. Now," she tapped a fingertip against the worn parchment, "What do ya think?"

Felicity gingerly held the chart up to inspect it more closely. She was silent for several heartbeats, lavender eyes flickering across the parchment. Allowing the snow-haired navigator to study the map thoroughly, and trusting her to plot the course, Kate strode across the deck and climbed up the rigging to assist Beth with the last of the ropes. Jenny, Lauriana and Anamarie scurried across the deck, ensuring that the cannons were tightly secured before checking all cargo in the hold as well.

"How long should it take us ta reach the island?" Lauriana asked as she tightened the ropes holding several barrels of gunpowder in place.

Anamarie shrugged.

"Ask the navigator, I'm just the cook."

Back on deck, Kate and Beth finished, standing on each side of the mast, their fingers grasping the pulleys that helped to hoist the sails. The wind danced around them, the cries of seagulls sweeping past their ears as gusts began to fill the sails. Kate looked back towards the helm, grinning as Felicity took the wheel. When she turned her attention forward again, she noted that Beth was frowning deeply, one hand on the pommel of her saber as another breeze made the braids of her hair dance.

"Somethin' in the wind?"

Beth was silent for a long moment, her narrowed eyes barely visible beneath the shade of the bandana she kept tied across her brow. Kate followed the taller woman's gaze, twisting her upper body to find what had caught her first mate's attention.

Beth lowered her eyes, the wind tickling her cheek with the tip of a slender braid.

"More like somethin' on the water, Captain."

Kate's expression became serious and her grip on the ropes tightened. A black ship had pulled along the starboard side as they prepared to cast off, its shadow enough to nearly dwarf the _Stella_. Its three masts soared upwards, dark sails adding to the overall impression of imposing size. The spike bowsprit stretched far over the water, as wide and thick as the trunk of an oak. The stern lamps rose elegantly from the back of the ship, the decoratively carved knots that held the blown glass intricate and lavish. In fact, almost every aspect of the ship was lavish, from the richly died fabric of the flags to the curve of the banisters that led from one deck to the other. Across the side of the prow had been written _Rika _in bold white script.

"What the devil does he want?" Kate muttered.

Beth's lips thinned as she shifted her weight with the pitch of the waves.

"If it be another marriage proposal, so help me, I'll rip his tongue clean from his head," she growled, causing her captain to raise a skeptical brow.

"It's not ya he keeps askin'."

"Aye, but it don' improve me mood any. Besides, every time he sets foot on deck, we lose the wind's favor. T'is enough ta turn any sailor superstitious, it is."

Kate chuckled, shrugging wind-tossed ringlets back over her shoulder.

"Mayhap, but we ought ta be courteous nonetheless, eh?"

Beth's lips twitched slightly.

"Tha' be an order, Captain?"

"Think of it as more of a request. I may be changin' me mind in a moment."

"Aye, aye."

With that, Kate left the tall redhead, repelling down towards the deck as a narrow plank was thrust across the water, smacking the railing with a crack. She straightened as a man strode confidently across the beam with a lazy grin, the beads strung in his black hair clicking with each step.

A broad leather belt was slung across his chest and right shoulder, covering a large portion of his billowing white shirt. The long black coat fit well across his shoulders and the purple sash tied around his waist added a swath of color to an otherwise drab ensemble. The tall hat with its sweeping purple band and azure feather, however, was a little too much, Kate thought, touching a finger to the worn leather brim of her tricorne.

Still, she thought as she inclined her head politely, he cut quite the handsome figure, if one overlooked the majority of his personality.

"Captain Alan."

"Kate, ya lovely woman. The sight of ya can always set me heart aflame...among other things," he said smoothly, his eyes sweeping over her figure with a leer and reaching out to take her hand. He brushed his lips against the back of her knuckles.

It was a gentlemanly gesture, and yet it coupled with his words in such a way that made her feel as if she needed to wash her hand, an urge that she was tempted to strike him across the cheek for. That and the fact he almost always forgot to address her as her rank required. A petty grievance, and she knew he did it only to annoy her. Unfortunately, it worked. Ignoring the prickling irritation, she merely smiled at him, subtlety tugging her hand free from his gentle grasp.

"What can I do fer ya?"

His dark grey eyes gleamed.

"Ya can finally answer my question."

Kate's gaze flashed for a brief moment.

"Tha' I already gave ya, on more than one occasion. There be anythin' else?"

His smile widened as he took a step back. Kate's eyes flew to the sudden cry that echoed behind him, her hands flying to her pistols as two young looking men swung across the gap between the two ships. The _Stella_'s crew poured out onto the deck, sabers and pistols drawn.

When she returned her eyes to Alan's, it was over the barrel of his blunderbuss, prompting her to ease her hands away from the handles of her guns. Seeing their captain at the hand of Captain Alan made her crew pause, watching her uncertainly.

For his part, Alan simply continued to smile charmingly at her.

"Aye, I'll be takin' tha' map ya picked up from Lord Giovanni's estate. I understand it leads ta quite the trove."

"So it be said," she replied softly, signaling her crew to stand down, which they did with obvious reluctance, lowering their weapons.

Indigo eyes flickered towards the snowy-haired woman frozen at the helm. Felicity gave her the tiniest of nods, one that Kate acknowledged with a tilt of her head. Reaching to the tube she had tucked into her belt, Felicity easily tossed it down to her captain. Kate caught it and promptly handed it to Alan with a flourish.

He plucked it from her hand, his fingertips brushing over hers as he smiled coyly. Rattling the container, the chart thumped against the wood dully and he slipped it into his jacket.

"Now then," he murmured, making Kate gasp in surprise as he swept his arm around her waist and pulled her to him.

"Perhaps ya be willin' to give me the answer I want since ya be feelin' so…agreeable?" he purred, bending her back slightly in what he obviously thought was a romantic manner.

She smirked up into his face, one hand sliding up the black sleeve of his coat and coming to rest on the lean muscle of his bicep.

"I be findin' it hard to take such a proposal seriously when it comes on the heels of one ta another woman," his eyes clouded over as her words drifted between them, then snapped as she added, "Another that not only rightly rejected ya, being the blushing bride to the _Sirius's_ navigator, but was never tempted ta ya side in the first place!"

With the speed of a canon shot, Kate stomped her foot down hard on top of his with a growl. Alan yelped and jerked back, releasing her to hold his injured appendage. In a rapid series of movements, she snatched the pistol from his loosened grip, cocked it, and pressed the barrel beneath his chin. The sound, coupled with the sensation of cold metal pressing against his skin, made him immediately cease his infuriated hopping. He looked at her, irritation and admiration at war in his features.

"Ya will be makin' me a very happy man one of these days," he murmured, making her chuckle quietly.

"So ya be sayin' ta every pretty face that wanders across yer path."

He didn't deny it and for several heartbeats they simply stared at one another. Her lips curving in a crooked grin, she eased back and spun the pistol playfully around her trigger finger.

"Ya got most of what ya wanted. I think it be time fer ya ta cast off."

He glanced down at the pistol still in her hand, flashing another charming smile as he gave a graceful half-bow from the waist.

"As ya command…Black Kate of the _Stella Virgo_."

At her frown, he turned on his heel and paced across the deck towards the plank that still stretched between the two ships. His lackeys were quick to follow and within the space of a few moments, the dark sails of the _Rika _were filled, taking it swiftly towards the horizon.

Lauriana came to stand at Kate's shoulder, her lilac eyes cast upwards uncertainly.

"Was tha' wise, Katie? They'll have a good head start on us."

The _Stella_'s captain glanced down, tucking the extra gun into the small of her back before reaching over to drape her arm across the smaller coral-haired girl's shoulders.

"Me darlin' lil sister, have ya no faith in yer siblings t'all?" she asked with a mischievous smile.

The two turned to look up towards the helm, Felicity leaning against the upper railing and holding up a rolled parchment. Lauriana clapped her hands with a quiet giggle.

"Yer a clever one, Captain, t'is true," then her eyes widened, "But won't tha mean Captain Alan will be comin' back? Once he fgures out you gave him the wrong chart?"

Kate released her youngest sister with a nod.

"Aye, an' we'll be ready fer him when he gets 'round ta openin' tha thing. Fer now, we have a headin'."

Lauriana saluted with a happy smile.

"Aye, Captain."

"First Mate Cavanaugh!"

"Aye, Captain?" Beth asked, pushing past Anamarie and Jenny.

Kate wet her finger, feeling for the wind before pointing towards the setting sun.

"Hoist anchor."

A chorus of 'ayes' went up as Kate strode up the deck towards the head of the _Stella_, feeling the rock and sway of the sea as they pulled away from the dock. The wind tossed her hair 'round her face, caressing her cheeks with wavy strands and breaths of salty air. A tune began to fall from her lips huskily.

_We wrapped 'em all in a mains'l tight  
With twice ten turns of a hawser's bight  
And we heaved 'em over and out of sight,  
With a Yo-Heave-Ho! and a fare-you-well  
And a sudden plunge in the sullen swell  
Ten fathoms deep on the road to hell..._

The words echoed long in her ears, though the sound itself was lost to the call of the waves breaking against the prow of the ship._  
_


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Feedback would be awesome and appreciated. Please read and enjoy! :)**_

* * *

_"_So wha' are we lookin' for, Captain?"

Kate's gaze slid to her right, where Jenny sat with her legs swinging back and forth, her feet dangling a few centimeters above the floor of the galley. Jenny was an odd one, but her skills as a doctor were undeniable. Kate knew little about her life before joining the crew of the Stella, but something had inspired an insatiable curiosity in the little blonde. At times, that curiosity seemed to be...strangely inspired...when it came to the endurance of the human body, but that was tolerable.

The captain's smile was teasing.

"Not till we get a bit closer to Red Sand Island, Jenny love. Ya know how it's done by now."

The younger woman frowned and nodded, then brightened immediately as the dark-haired cook strode from the kitchen.

"Anamarie, ya be an angel, truly lost 'mongst us poor mortals," Jenny teased as she stuffed her mouth with tempura, crumbs escaping in every direction in her enthusiasm.

The cook, for her part, merely rolled her eyes, the scar on her cheek twisting oddly as her lips twitched.

"T'is true, me lovely, t'is true, so ya can excuse her table manners," Kate laughed, biting down on a moist orange slice, the sweet, tangy flavor making her hum happily.

"Thank ya, Captain, Jenny," Anamarie muttered quietly with a slight, embarrassed nod, leaning over to place a fresh bowl of boiled potatoes on the tabletop.

She straightened and cast her eye over the expanse of the table, her hands resting on her hips and her lips moving, taking stock of what remained and what needed refilling.

All pirates had a healthy appetite; that they were a group of female pirates changed that fact very little. The massive quantities of food Anamarie had prepared for them only reinforced it. Anything and everything, from sweet fruits to thick bacon to a whole rack of beef ribs graced the table, exotic aromas dancing in the air and making every mouth present water.

Felicity and Lauriana sat talking quietly, Beth sitting to their left and idly spinning her fork around the edge of her plate with a glower. Kate frowned as Beth, seated across from her, picked at her food, and nudged the taller woman's leg with the toe of her boot.

Beth glanced up quizzically.

"What's eatin' ya?"

Beth's frown deepened, leaning back in her chair and throwing one long leg over the arm, resting her elbow on the other. Her braids swayed lightly, clasps clinking as she tilted her head with a sigh blown heavily through her nose.

"Death Cry Reef," she said after a moment, her voice low and troubled.

Kate also leaned back in her chair, lacing her fingers together across her flat stomach, indigo eyes solemn.

"Felicity's guided us through that reef more than once. She be knowin' them waters."

"Aye, that she does and I be havin' no doubts of her skill," Beth replied, with a nod towards the snowy-haired woman.

"Then what be the problem, eh?" Kate asked with a raised brow.

Beth was silent for a few minutes, her cerulean eyes fixed firmly on the table. The pad of her thumb ran back and forth across her bottom lip, a habit, Kate had long ago noticed, that kicked in when the first mate was deep in thought. Letting her mull over her answer, Kate gestured for Anamarie to sit.

"Ya need ta eat too, Ana. Enjoy yer own cooking, love," she chided the cook gently, who tsked under her breath, but sat anyway.

When the captain returned her eyes to Beth, the redhead was gazing at her steadily, if a bit grimly.

"Don't ya think tha' the Reef offers Captain Alan a perfect place to ambush us? T'would not be hard ta drive us onta it, if he had a mind ta."

Kate returned the look quietly for a moment before replying.

"Aye, the thought occurred ta me, but tha faulty chart we stuck him with outta take him leagues outta the way. Still, there be a good chance tha he expected as much and will be waitin' on us...and we'll be ready fer him when, and if, it happens."

Beth leaned forward suddenly, her palms smacking against the table.

"Ya know fer a fact he'll be there waitin' on us?" she asked with a growl, her blue eyes blazing, "And ya have no problem sendin' us inta tha' kinda trap? You can't be-"

"Do ya be hard of hearin'?"

Kate did not move, her expression unchanging, though her eyes flashed for a split second, her voice cutting across the table with a sharp authority. The crew had fallen completely silent, the sets of their shoulders reflecting the tension that had quite suddenly arisen in the galley.

"No, Captain," Beth replied, "I heard ya clear enough and I meant no disrespect. I think tha' we ought to jus' take the safe route, go 'round the Reef. We don' need ta take any risks tha' could-"

"And I will take tha' opinion under consideration as soon as this ship becomes a democracy, Cavanaugh," Kate cut her off lightly, her lazy posture and quiet tone belying the slight tensing set of her jaw.

The two women eyed each other harshly for several heartbeats until Beth seemed to relent, easing back into her seat with an almost sheepish expression. Kate feltsome of the tightness in her gut ease. Her first mate possessed a hair trigger temper and the skill of arm to back it up. Kate held no illusions that it was only the brunette's respect for the chain of command that kept them from crossing blades more often.

"Aye, aye, Captain."

Lauriana leaned forward in her chair, her hands clasped in her lap.

"So what is the plan, Captain, if ya be thinkin' he's comin' back fer the chart?"

Kate's smile was enigmatic.

"What worked once…can work again."

Jenny sat bolt upright in her chair, hazel eyes widening.

"Ya mean to actually give it ta him this time?"

It was Felicity who answered, tapping her temple with a smirk.

"T'will be of lil use to him, considering—" She reached into her belt before tossing the petite doctor the rolled parchment, " tha' ya will find I altered it just a touch."

Jenny's expression was one of fierce amusement, her grin toothy.

"Tha'll put a damper on his day."

Kate laughed, her eyes twinkling gleefully.

"Aye, and I suspect it'll put an end to the marriage proposals too," she said with a wink.

"I wouldn't bet on tha, Captain," Beth muttered, crossing her arms sullenly as she sat back in her chair.

Kate shrugged lightly, resting her elbow on the arm of her chair and pressing a finger against her cheek.

"He's persistent, I'll grant ya."

To be perfectly honest, if only to herself, Kate didn't really mind the captain of the Rika. Alan was what she would have considered dangerously handsome. A sweetness seemed to lurk just beneath the abrasive veneer he presented to the world, the off-putting personality more often than not appearing to be just a touch more forceful than was natural, in her eyes. He was charming when he wished to be, and fiercely intelligent when he wasn't distracted by long legs and a pretty face. She wouldn't deny his eccentricity, however, or his propensity for tying things up. Although, she heard the same from other pirates, so she was willing to let that one particular oddity slide.

But there was no doubt that he was treacherous. Every encounter they'd ever had proved that. Her expression become solemn as the nails of her other hand began to drum against the wooden arm of the chair. He would be waiting for them at the Reef and she was certain of that. Even if he'd fallen for Felicity's clever switch, it wouldn't be for long. And whatever he had planned, it was not going to be easy getting away from him.

Kate had no intention of engaging the larger, more powerful Rika, whether in open water or with the shoals at their back. It was suicidal.

The Stella Virgo was a formidable vessel, a galleon with 26 cannons, three masts and constructed from the hardest oaks money could buy. She had seen more than its fair share of battles, storms, and sea monsters, tackling them all and coming out with hardly a scratch to show for it. But the Rika easily dwarfed her, in size, cannon capacity, and simple, sheer strength. No one knew where Alan had gotten the ship, but everyone had heard of it long before he had taken over as her captain.

The Rika had been a legendary vessel nearly before she had even left the shipyard, its architect's reputation subsequently bolstering her own. Supposedly, this was her designer's masterpiece, the last ship ever constructed by the individual who merely went by Wright. Upon completion of the vessel, Wright vanished, but his work remained, building a name for herself decades after her engineer ceased to be anything but a name written on parchment. The Rika's nearly century-long tour of active service under a league of captains had carved her place in history, but it was under the command of her last captain that the ship had set it in stone.

"Kidd," Kate murmured quietly, her indigo eyes focusing on the darkening horizon visible out the starboard porthole.

Captain Edward Kidd had been regarded as one of the greatest pirates to sail the four seas, and it was a reputation richly deserved, if for no other reason than the sheer number of ships sunk while the Rika was under his command. The rumors of his treasure horde were nothing to be sneezed at either. Many, many legends had arisen as to quantity, quality, and origin of Kidd's plunder. Maps supposedly leading to its resting place could be bought in nearly every port for less than a barrel of dried fruit.

Kate's fingers were steadily, but absently drumming against the arm of the chair, reflecting the tone of her thoughts.

Kidd had been dead for close to seven years now, and the Rika had been thought lost for the majority of those. Then, out of nowhere, two years ago, the black ship was spotted in the South Sea, an entire fleet of Naval ships destroyed in a flash of cannon fire. A new captain patrolled her ebony decks, a cocky grin curving his lips and a hungry gleam in his dark ocean eyes.

In less time than it took for Kidd to earn his name, Alan had become Captain of not only the Rika, but also the entire South Sea. It was an accomplishment that could rival his predecessor, and yet the man rarely received any credit. His constant surrender to his own quirks were more than likely to blame for that.

Kate shook her head roughly with a slight frown; the effort certainly wasn't worth the headache it caused her to think about him.

"Captain?"

She turned her gaze away from her view of the sea to meet curious hazel eyes that had wandered a little too close. Leaning back in her chair as far as she could, Kate gave Jenny a quizzical look.

"Aye?"

Jenny pointed to the half-eaten food on the plate in front of them.

"Stomach ache?"

Kate shook her head slowly.

"Nah, just full, I guess," she touched the toe of her boot against the edge of the table, stretching her calf muscle and pushing her chair back.

Her arms rose high over her head, arching her back as vertebrae cracked in a series of dull pops. Kate sighed in relieved pleasure and stood, turning towards Anamarie.

"Need a hand, love?"

Dark brown irises regarded her gratefully, though the expression on her features remained stoic.

"I would appreciate that, Captain."

Kate's gaze swept over the swiftly emptying galley before shrugging and beginning to pick up empty plates.

"I reckon we're on cleanup tonight," Kate observed with a dry chuckle.

She couldn't blame the others; doing the dishes was one of the less pleasant chores on the ship. It was probably one of the less pleasant chores on land too, she thought wryly, stacking crockery and sturdy plates in the crook of her arm. Nimbly, Kate tossed silverware up to the top of the pile before taking her burden left, down a small step and into the actual kitchen.

The galley was one of the larger spaces in the Stella, plenty of room for two people to move comfortably. A long counter stretched on either side of the kitchen, cabinets lining the wall both beneath and above them. The wood, like the rest of the ship, was a rich mahogany color, the hinges and handles a complementary black. A large pantry stood at the far end of the galley, double doors firmly latched to keep food fresh. The wooden stove was black and was wrought with knotted lines that encompassed its belly. While it was not very large, Anamarie had learned how to use it efficiently in order to feed a decent sized crew.

Setting the dishes in the deep sink, Kate rolled up her sleeves and turned the tap. Felicity and Anamarie had developed a kind of filtration system in the ship, which helped convert seawater into fresh water, but it was limited in the amounts it could provide at any given time. More often than not, water needed to be reused, but since they had just left port and filled the tanks, they should be fine for a while.

The water heated as it flowed over her fingers and she swiftly plugged the bottom of the sink. Grabbing a chunk of soap from the counter, she set her tricorne on the other counter so it wouldn't drop into the water. She picked up the rag that had been hung over the faucet, soaking it in the hot, soapy water.

Quietly, she worked side by side with Anamarie, who promptly dried and put away the crockery. Kate glanced at the chef from the corner of her eye.

Anamarie had never been one to talk much, but no one could deny her intelligence when she decided to make it known. She worked hard, like everyone in the crew, and she was good at what she did. Honestly, at anything she did. Anamarie was one of those rare individuals that could put her mind to any craft or task, and subsequently master it. Her joy in life, however, was to cook. It was something that ignited a passion in her dark eyes that Kate rarely saw outside the galley. She was immaculate and orderly in all she did, a trait that extended to her appearance, which was quite a feat on a ship that only saw land every month or so.

Reaching out, Kate dried her hands on the clean towel Anamarie provided, folding it and placing it on the counter tidily in deference to the cook's preference.

"Well now," Kate said with a crooked grin as she stretched for a second time that evening, "that's that. I reckon I'll be headin' to me cabin, unless ya got somethin' else fer me ta do?"

Anamarie shook her head, black strands gently swishing against her cheeks.

"No need, Captain, I've only ta prepare a bit fer breakfast in the mornin'."

"Good night, then."

Snatching up her hat, Kate treaded lightly out of the galley, her steps rolling with the pitch of the ship. They were well out to sea, near the unseen barrier between Seas. The currents were always rougher in these patches of ocean. If she had glanced out a porthole on her way to the stern of the ship, she would have seen, even in the dim light of the moon, that the waters they passed over were a lighter color than the normal deep blue. The sea turned turquoise, the changes in temperature and current churning it into the beautiful, precious stone's color.

Tossing her tricorne onto the large desk that stretched across one side of the cabin, Kate moved towards the large bay windows that made up the back of the room. It wasn't nearly as large as the galley and dining area, but it was certainly comfortable. Instead of a wide bunk, she had an actual bed to sleep in, complete with azure sheets and two goose feather pillows. Shelves had been built into the wall, holding everything from books to charts to odds and ends she had collected from their travels. A large round rug covered the planks on the floor, plush and died an intricate pattern of red and gold.

She threw one open, breathing the salty air deeply with a smile, her eyes closing in contentment. When she opened them again, however, something caught her attention.

"The bloody hell?" she asked to herself, head tilting and making the tied-off end of her purple bandana brush her neck.

Kate squinted, settling her weight on one knee as it rose to rest on the pillowed window seat that had been built below the windows. Grumbling to herself for lack of foresight, she twisted and reached behind her for her telescope, putting it to her eye.

Her brows rose, then drew together with a muttered curse.

"Just when ya think ya can have a nice evenin' ta yerself," she groused, slamming the telescope back onto the desk and straightening, latching the window closed behind her.

With her stride eating up the distance between the far end of the cabin and the door, she snatched up her hat and jammed it onto her head.

"All hands on deck! Battle stations, all hands!" she yelled as she rushed up the narrow stairs to the deck.

She came to a stop at the bottom of the main mast, cupping her hands around her mouth and tilting her head back.

"Oye, Lauriana! What be the purpose of keepin' watch when ya be noddin' off?!"

A coral-tinted head poked over the side of the crow's nest, wide lilac eyes blinking in surprise.

"I'm not sleepin', Captain! I be keepin' watch!"

Kate pointed behind her with a glower.

"Do ya be keepin' watch stern side too or is yer eyesight so poor ya can't see a bloody Navy ship on the horizon?!"

With a confused look, Lauriana lifted her head to see what the captain meant and Kate could almost hear the gasp she was sure her sibling let out. Nothing more was said between them, Kate already striding up the staircase towards the helm while the younger woman scurried down the rigging as quickly as she safely could. There would be time for reprimands later.

Kate leapt onto the railing, grabbing a line to keep herself steady as she watched the enemy vessel easily gain on them, the west wind filling their sails.

"Hell's bells," she muttered, recognizing the distinct sloping decks and bristling three story cannon shoots. It was a galleon.

Kate's head whipped around as Felicity rushed up the deck, taking the helm.

"We can take advantage of this wind a bit, but they'll overtake us before too long, Captain," the snowy-haired woman called out.

"Aye," Kate replied, indigo eyes hardening as she lifted a hand to her mouth again.

"Prepare ta broadside, starboard cannons!"

The crew scurried across the deck as Kate rolled her shoulder, drawing her rifle. She gripped the slender gun in one hand, knuckles nearly white. Dammit all to hell, but she hated the Navy. This was hardly an ideal situation. It would have been preferable to simply melt into the darkness, but the Stella had already been sighted. Kate had a suspicion that they had been a targeted even before they had left port, the enemy waiting patiently for nightfall to mask their approach.

"Wait for my shot," she yelled down to the lower deck, Beth echoing her as she watched over the water.

The ship slowly, but steadily, began to close the distance, leaning towards the starboard side as Kate had anticipated. Dropping down from the railing, she strode to the other side of the ship and braced her boot against the rigging, propping her elbow on her knee. The butt of the rifle pressed firmly into the crook of her shoulder as she began to take slow, even breaths. Her gaze narrowed over the sight, she steadied her aim, and waited.

She was out of the line of sight with the Stella's tall stern covering her position. As the ship finally began to draw alongside, Kate carefully ran her gaze over the sailors in white marine uniforms, searching for her target. She spotted him near the bow of the ship, calling out orders as his men prepared their cannons. Kate could feel her crews' eyes on her, waiting for her signal.

The officer's uniform was pristine and freshly pressed, standing out even without the gold braid on his shoulder to signify his exemption from the rank and file marines around him. He was almost handsome, Kate mused in a far off part of her consciousness, with a blonde, neatly trimmed beard and clear cut, defined features. Beneath the glow of the ship's lanterns, his eyes appeared dark, but she would never be certain just what color they had been.

A crack rang out across both decks and the officer slumped forward, a hand clasped to his collarbone. It was a clean shot, Kate had made sure of that as she pressed down against the planks, to avoid any returned fire. The cannons on the lower decked roared one after the other, echoed by Jenny's maniacal cackle as she lit fuse after fuse. The large guns boomed, thrusting back against their tethers as cannonballs whizzed across the narrow stretch of water between the two ships. Splinters, nails, metal all shot into the air, spilling back down over the Navy crew. They'd hardly recovered before Kate was dashing down to the lower deck.

"Prepare to board!"

With a yell, the other women followed her orders. Beth drew her saber and leaped onto the railing, grabbing a line and easily swinging across towards the enemy vessel. She landed with an almost lazy roll of her hips, flowing onto the ship as the sea churned below. A marine was almost immediately at her left, saber slashing in a downward arc. The tall redhead swiftly countered, blocking the chop and drawing the blunderbuss she had tucked into the black belt at her waist. With a snarl, she shoved it into his belly and fired, jerking back and darting further onto the deck. The others were right behind her, swords and pistols out.

Flashes and the scent of powder filled the air, choking out the more pleasant, salty fragrance of the sea. Kate landed on the opposite deck with a hard thump of her boots, firing her pistols simultaneously at two marines charging from below deck. Tucking the guns into her sash, she swiftly ducked under a skilled slash, but she wasn't quite fast enough, the tip of the blade slicing her cheek. Spinning on the ball of her foot, Kate whipped out the sword sheathed at her belt. Straightening in a blur of coral tinted curls, she viciously brought the blade up with her, slicing the unfortunate man from belly to throat. Gurgling sickeningly, the marine sunk to his knees, but Kate was already moving.

Two other officers were screaming at the scrambling crew below them in frustration and fury, pointing to the pirates scattering across the deck.

"Kill them!"

Kate's lips pulled back in a sneer, a shock of yellow hair streaming in her peripheral vision as Jenny bolted past her. As Kate turned, she could see two knives appearing in the small doctor's hands. And then they seemed to vanish in a stream of shimmering silver as she glided between an approaching pair of sailors, arms extending. They snapped up simultaneously, the sharpened tips became visible again, driven deeply into unprotected throats before being pulled out with a decisive jerk. But as the two men collapsed with barely a murmur of sound, Kate lost sight of the blonde in the smoke of muskets suddenly firing from the upper deck of the ship.

Grumbling, she sheathed her saber and yelled out.

"Anamarie!"

The dark-eyed cook was near the main mast, fending off a mountain of a marine with her thick, two handed staff. He wielded a large broadsword in one hand, his meaty hand easily closing over the entirety of the hilt, waving it in great, wide arcs that Anamarie was hard-pressed to dodge. With a swift kick, she brought the heel of her boot to bear against the big man's knee. He barely moved and her eyes widened a little as she jumped back from a proficient swipe aimed at her neck, the edge of the massive man's sword making her black bangs flutter in its wake. But Anamarie was off balance and her opponent immediately began pressing his advantage, moving far more nimbly than a man of his size should have been able to. Mercilessly, he advanced, pushing Anamarie back towards the mast. Her staff was a blur in the dim lantern lights, blocking strike after strike, tearing the wood away from the sword's sharpened edge so as not to allow the blade to sink into it.

"Damn," Kate muttered, drawing one of her pistols and firing into the chest of a charging marine as she started towards her crewmate.

The sound of the shot made the big man take his eyes from Anamarie for a split second, but it was an opportunity she immediately took advantage off, swinging her staff in a circling motion up and then across, cracking across the marine's face. His head snapped to the side with the blow and Kate could have sworn she heard him growl. There was no warning as his free hand shot up in a wild punch, his hand slamming into her chest.

"Ugh!"

Anamarie flew back with a guttural sound, hitting the mast with a sickening, crunching sound, barely catching herself on her knees and one hand, the other still clinging to her staff. Panting, she looked up with tight eyes, fury flashing behind the obsidian irises. Kate bite back an urge to grin as Anamarie fought to regain her feet, leaning heavily on her staff for support as one hand climbed over the other, until she was standing again.

With practiced movements, Kate reloaded the pistol as she strode and this time, fired forward, closing one eye as she took aim at the sloping curve of a broad shoulder when the marine turned towards her. His body jerked with the impact and he half-twisted. Anamarie was moving before Kate could draw her second pistol, and struck again, once more angling for the marine's knee. This time, he went down with a grunt, kneeling on his uninjured leg and Anamarie slammed the end of her staff against his right temple, his head moving with the blow before she spun the staff up and snapped it across his left. He went down then, dead or unconscious, the pirate captain didn't know.

The cook was breathing hard as she drew beside her. Kate wrapped her fingers around her shoulder.

"Jenny?"

Anamarie winced, but nodded. Kate patted her shoulder once and stepped away, turning around and giving in to her smile as she observed the rest of her crew making short work of the remaining Naval forces. The officers she had seen on the upper deck were now securely roped and set on the steps leading back up, their stockinged knees drawn up to their chests. With a knife tip pointed directly at the closest one's neck, just below his ear, was Jenny, her sweet features grinning in a jarringly cheerful expression. Seeing her captain approach, she dug the blade just deep enough into flesh to allow blood to flow.

Kate crossed her arms as she tossed her head towards the musket men still training their rifles on her and the doctor. Her smile became toothier, blood caking where it had run in a rivulet down her cheek.

"Gents, why don' we negotiate?"

* * *

Amalthea gently folded one of Eduardo's shirts, carefully tucking it in one of the upper drawers of the dresser Nathan and Russell had made them for a wedding gift. She reached for another from the basket she had set on the bed, her fingers caressing over the fabric softened from frequent use. This was one of his favorites, crème colored and well matched to the deep red jacket he wore with such confidence. Amalthea ran her thumb over the freshly repaired sleeve, tiny, neat white stitches closed over what had been a large gash.

"Tha look don' become the wife of a king, ya know," a rough voice spoke from beside her and she turned her face to see a warm hazel eye looking down at her. Her gaze flicked down to his naked chest, a flush starting in her cheeks before they fell on his crossed arms, and the scar that matched the shape and size of the repair of the shirt in her hand.

She didn't reply, ducking her head to hide the tears gathering in her large brown eyes behind the waves of brown curls. A large hand caught her chin and lifted it, the fingers extending to cup her face. Then she felt a sharp pinch and she gasped.

"Eduardo!"

"Ya should've expected tha', idiot. God, yer too naïve."

Even as he said this, she could hear an undercurrent in his voice, something gentler than the harsh words that fell from his lips. So she ignored what he said.

"I don't like to think about how close you get," she murmured, her eyes falling once again to the shirt in her hands, her thumb ghosting across the stitching. "Every gunshot, every sword strike..."

He sighed and moved to pat the top of her head.

"Then don't think."

She almost smiled, knowing that it was his way of telling her to stop worrying. He wasn't the sweetest man, or the most patient, but he had always been good to her. And though she could never admit it to him, because of his pride, she was afraid for him. The strength she saw in him didn't matter. The trust she had in him and their mates didn't matter. What mattered, was that every time they landed, every time another ship pulled alongside the Sirius, there was a chance that-

He sighed again as her face fell, removing his hand and plucking the shirt from hers. He tossed it back into the basket before gathering her in his arms, her own came around his neck. She buried her nose in the hollow of his throat, her eyelashes fluttering against his neck. One hand came to rest in her hair, holding her close as the other settled on the small of her back. His lips brushed against her temple.

"Don't think."

_Stop worrying, _she heard_, I'm fine, we're fine, I love you._

She heard the words as clearly as if he had spoken them and as he pulled back slightly to cover her lips with his, she found herself believing them. Her fingers wound themselves in his wavy dark hair, anchoring him against her, proving to herself that he was, in fact, fine and real and right here in front of her. His arms tightened around her and her body molded against his, fitting against him as the kiss deepened, warmth pooling low in her belly when he growled against her lips.

"Eduardo, Captain needs ya on th-"

Eduardo tore his mouth from hers, giving the slack jawed youth standing in their doorway a glare.

"Captain needs me for what, Thomas?"

Thomas stared at them with wide eyes before slapping a hand over them. It was comical enough that Amalthea dared to smile.

"C-Captain said to get ya and Miss Amalthea on deck right now, tha's all I saw, I swear!"

The last part was yelled over his shoulder as he blindly bolted down the corridor and she bowed her head to hide her amusement at his nonsensical answer. Eduardo didn't loosen his hold on his wife as he exhaled heavily through his nose, Amalthea biting her lip to keep from laughing at her husband's exasperated expression when she looked up.

"I wonder what Captain needs us for," she wondered as she gently stepped out of his arms, reaching over and handing him a clean shirt.

"Could be anything," he replied as he dressed, pulling on his trousers and buttoning his jacket.

Amalthea handed him his bandolier and Eduardo buckled it swiftly.

"Anything?" she prompted, her fingers smoothing down her breeches and he shrugged, moving one broad shoulder.

"Aye," he looked over at her and petted her hair a moment, his quirked brow asking a silent question.

_Are you alright?_

She gave him a quiet smile.

"I'm fine," she held out her hand to him. "Let's go."

He nodded, then took her hand and led her out of their room towards the deck.


End file.
